


Letting Go

by LuminousGloom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Casual Sex, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, First Time, Friendship, Intercrural Sex, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Remus Lupin Fest 2019, Rimming, Sex, Smut, Young Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-06 19:08:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18394538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousGloom/pseuds/LuminousGloom
Summary: Prompt 35: 5 + 1 times Remus had sex.A number of lusty, intimate encounters. Although for Remus, it's really only ever been about one person. And it's never quite right, until it's right.





	Letting Go

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you the mods for running this fest, and for being so patient with stragglers like me! And thank you E, N and S for your invaluable input.

** 1\. Wales **

He knew they were going to do it. They hadn’t said anything, there was no need. The tension had become palpable between them, begging for release. Climbing out of the wobbly boat, they laughed as they stalked through the long grass, Remus’ heart beating a nervous rhythm in his chest. The other boy had taken off his faded t-shirt, revealing more muscles and gleaming skin, his crop of fair hair shining in the sun. Then they entered the sudden darkness between the trees.

Gwilym had a long, hard body, and a soft, dreamy smile. They’d only met a week ago, when he’d started chatting to Remus at the till of the village shop. Speaking in a pronounced local lilt, he’d teased Remus about taking so long to choose a Muggle chocolate bar. By the time they’d left the shop together the boy had apparently decided that he and Remus were going to be friends. 

The encounter had instantly made Remus’ holidays a lot more bearable – having someone of his own age to talk to, to do things with. Someone to distract him from his stupid daydreams. They’d spent the following days out and about, going for exploratory scrambles in the hills, racing dilapidated Muggle bikes down narrow country lanes, playing football with Gwilym’s brothers. 

Remus enjoyed acting like a Muggle, enjoyed pretending that there was no such thing as magic, or Dark creatures. Or Animagi. Gwilym was easy-going, and funny, and he didn’t ask too many questions. Remus liked his deep voice, his easy, rumbling laughter. Even their comfortable silences. 

Best of all, being around him kept Remus from pointlessly brooding, about other people, far away in London. People with an irresistible smile and that stupid swagger, with sharp eyes and a head full of outrageous ideas.

And then, today, messing about in the rowing boat on the hidden dark pond, Remus had felt it. Things actually shifting. Tension, prickling under his skin. He’d had an inkling all along, but up until now he had dismissed it. 

In the boat, he had noticed Gwilym watching him - undeniably watching him, quietly, blinking in the wisps of smoke from their stolen cigarettes. His stomach swooping, Remus had grinned, and held his gaze. 

Shall we, Gwilym had said, indicating dry land. Remus had swallowed and nodded.

And now, here they were, heading into the woods. Remus let the other boy lead the way, curious which of them would act first. He knew what would come next. He’d wanted it for ages, had imagined it countless times. Long before he’d even met this boy with his gangly walk and his roguish eyes. 

When Gwilym slowed his step and turned towards him, Remus easily closed the distance. Their lips met, they kissed clumsily, but with enthusiasm. Gwilym cupped Remus’ face with one large, barely trembling hand. As they kept on snogging, Remus let his own hands wander over Gwilym’s muscular shoulders, down the long curve of his back. All that skin, it was breathtaking. And he could feel Gwilym pressing into him, he was just as hard as Remus was. 

Taking a step back, Gwilym let his hands roam across Remus’ chest, under his shirt, before trailing lower. Groping the bulge in Remus’ trousers, he rubbed it a bit, before undoing the fastening and pulling at the fabric, letting his cock spring free. 

Meanwhile, Remus hurried to unbutton Gwilym’s shorts.

Gasping, they gripped each other’s cocks, squeezing and stroking each other. It was awkward at first, but also like wanking. Gwilym’s hand felt amazing, pumping Remus’ shaft, rubbing him just right. Remus kept up a similar rhythm, enjoying the feel of another prick in his hand, how hard it was. They kissed again, their hands speeding up. Gwilym came with a soft moan, wet spunk splashing over Remus’ hand.

He quickly dropped to his knees, nervously grinning up at Remus, before grasping Remus’ cock again and licking it like a lollipop. Remus had to steady himself when Gwilym took the whole tip into his mouth. He gasped when Gwilym sucked it in even deeper. 

Astounded, and panting audibly, Remus watched his face. The boy was entirely focused on the task at hand, his lips wrapped around Remus’ glistening shaft, one hand massaging the base. It felt heavenly, hot and wet and so tight. Gwilym was moving up and down, varying the pressure, doing delicious things with his tongue. Holding onto Gwilym’s head, Remus rocked his hips a bit, to push in that little deeper.

‘I’m going to-’ he tried to pull back, and came hard, spurting all over Gwilym’s chin and nose. Unfazed, Gwilym wiped it off with the back of his hand, beaming up at Remus.

Walking back slowly, Remus was in a happy daze. So this was what it was like, being on the other side. It had only taken a few minutes. He wondered if it showed. His parents were going to ask about his day, and he would pretend nothing had happened. He’d hide the fact he was older, wiser, that he knew more about the world. He’d see Gwilym again tomorrow, and the day after.

 

** 2\. Aftermath **

He woke up slowly, and alone. Stretched his limbs as memories trickled back into his dazed mind. Sirius, silhouetted against the street lights. Sirius, shouting and hissing, accusing him of all sorts. 

He couldn’t remember the exact words, they hadn’t been sober by any stretch. He knew that he’d given as good as he’d got, and that he’d thought it was all utterly pointless. 

They’d been pissed, been drinking too much for weeks, letting off steam, trying to forget. All the booze had been making Sirius short-tempered and suspicious, it was making Remus despondent and morose.

Yawning, he could smell the sex they’d had afterwards. An artless shag, straight to the point, almost violent. It had ended with Sirius pounding into him, fierce and unrelenting, holding him in position, kissing his neck so hard it would bruise.

Remus, easily the stronger of the two, couldn’t be bothered to fight anymore. He had let go of all thought, until there was nothing but the fierce rhythm of pleasure, edged with pain. A means to an end, the release they’d both needed. 

As he staggered out of bed now, and into the kitchen for a glass of water, he remembered a moment in yesterday’s Order meeting. Sirius sitting across the room, gazing at him with a slight frown. Then the frown had quickly dissolved into a grin, charming as ever.

Gulping down his water, Remus heard the tap running in the bathroom. And Sirius, mumbling something to himself. 

Wand in hand and bleary eyed, Sirius was peering at his sorry reflection in the mirror. He’d fallen down that flight of iron steps, Remus vaguely remembered when he saw the swelling, a contusion and a cut in that beautiful, shadowy face. Remus silently held out his hand, and after a long, inscrutable look, Sirius passed him his wand.

Remus stepped up close behind Sirius at the sink. Gently cupping Sirius’ chin he tilted his head this way and that, pointing Sirius’ wand at the injuries. The wand felt alive between his fingers, almost thrumming with its own energy. Remus’ Charms were barely a hoarse whisper. Sirius was controlling his breathing, watching Remus in the mirror, his jaw set. He smelled musky, of booze and smoke and sweat and come. 

‘There,’ Remus croaked. ‘All done.’

Sirius nodded, still watching him. Remus’ hard prick was pressed up against his arse cheeks, Sirius’ own cock resting against the sink. Remus pointed the wand again, murmuring another spell. In the mirror, a hint of that rakish smile played on Sirius’ lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Instead, there was something else. Longing, perhaps. Remus rubbed his slick cock along the cleft of Sirius’ arse, and found its target. He dropped Sirius’ wand on the edge of the sink with a clatter, and gave Sirius’ cock a perfunctory tug. Even if they hadn’t been getting on, they couldn’t help themselves, it was like scratching an itch. It was too good to give up. 

They both gasped as Remus pushed in, right to the hilt, Sirius bracing himself against the sink. 

This is how it’s always been, Remus told himself as he began to fuck Sirius with long, brisk strokes. He was going to shag him senseless, fuck him hard, take him apart completely. Then they would sleep. And then, later, perhaps things might go back to normal.

 

** 3\. Kingsley **

It was a grizzly evening, gusts of wind blowing paper and other detritus along the wet pavement. Outside the Black Swan, people stood laughing and enjoying themselves, though Remus couldn’t think why. He was keeping his head down, ignoring the prickle of fine rain on his face, thinking of the boiled egg and soldiers he’d have for tea, the long slug of firewhisky, perhaps a hot bath. He did notice a figure melting out of the small crowd waiting at the bus stop. A tall and imposing shadow, following him.

Remus was ready. He’d draw his wand at a moment’s notice, he’d defend himself with the nonchalance of someone who hasn’t got much to live for. Foolhardy, Dumbledore had scolded him before. Remus had merely shrugged. 

The dark figure was catching up with him fast. “Remus,” the man called out, in a deep, sonorous voice. 

Remus stopped dead. “Kingsley?” He turned to face him. 

Kingsley Shacklebolt was grinning, almost unrecognisable in his Muggle get up, a grey hoodie and black jeans under a long dark coat.

“Hi,” he said lightly. “Where are you off to?”

“I was just going home.” Remus eyed the other man cautiously. 

“Not doing anything special?” Kingsley nodded. “Right, come on then. I’m taking you out to dinner.”

Frowning, Remus ran a hand across his face. “I, um...”

“And I’m not taking no for an answer. It’s only once a year. You might as well celebrate in style.”

Remus sighed, but conceded. “Might as well, I suppose. Thank you.” He couldn’t very well refuse a free dinner, nor could he resist Kingsley’s dazzling smile. Who knew when he would see it again.

Kingsley Apparated them from a side street to a Soho back alley, then led him to a restaurant in a narrow townhouse with warped wood panelling and creaky floorboards. To Remus’ great relief the menu was straightforward and inexpensive. He couldn’t help noticing the number of couples, all the candlelight. 

“This isn’t a date, is it?” he asked with a smile.

Shacklebolt shrugged, beaming. “Could be? If you like.”

“We’d better have some wine, then.” 

Kingsley insisted on toasting Remus’ birthday. They talked of mundane things - work, friends, Muggle news. Remus realised that he was enjoying himself, enjoying the distraction. The food, when it came, was delicious. It had been a while since he’d met a friend, since he’d felt at ease quite like this. 

‘So are you all packed?’ Kingsley asked casually, expertly deboning his seabass. ‘Where are you going first?’ 

‘Manila, I think,’ Remus shrugged, savouring a bite of cauliflower. ‘I’ve made a plan, but I’m not sure if I’ll stick to it. We’ll see.’ 

Kingsley nodded. ‘Are you planning to come back?’ 

‘Well.’ Remus swallowed and picked up his glass. Blood red wine, swirling mysteriously. ‘Who knows,’ he said, trying for a light tone of voice. It didn’t sound very convincing. ‘Let’s say I haven’t bought my return ticket yet.’

‘Right.’ Kingsley cleared his throat and fixed him with his dark, smouldering eyes. ‘You’re not still using all those potions, are you?’

‘Of course I am.’ Remus said gruffly. Amnesialgesic potions hadn’t been designed for long term use, but since Obliviating himself was too dangerous, what else could he do. ‘I need something. If I’m supposed to carry on.’ 

‘You know they’ll mess with your head.’

Remus shrugged, nonplussed. ‘And?’

Kingsley just raised his eyebrows and focussed on his food. At another table people were laughing. Remus gulped down some more wine.  
‘Kingsley, listen,’ he said after a short pause. ‘I’ve actually been meaning to thank you. Without you, I don’t think I would’ve… you know, managed.’

‘Ah.’ Kingsley was smiling his beatific, deadpan smile. ‘You’re very welcome. And it wasn’t purely selfless, you know that. But I’m glad I was able to help.’ He raised his own glass. ‘I’m happy to help you some more, if you like. After this.’

Remus chuckled. ‘Yeah,’ he said roughly. ‘I’d like that.’

At the end of the meal, Kingsley insisted on ordering Remus a piece of chocolate cake, on ordering both of them a digestive liqueur, and then on paying the bill. When they stepped out into the chilly evening, he mentioned a bar they could go to, or there was a bottle of malt that he’d been meaning to crack open, back at his place…? As though Remus needed any encouragement.

Remus felt drunk with all the attention, the fleeting and casually intimate touches, the other man’s smile. 

Standing in Kingsley’s flat, Remus breathed in the familiar warm, woody scent permeating the air. A grown up place, he’d always thought, with its many framed photographs of landscapes, with its patterned rugs and vibrant printed fabrics against solid, sober furniture. It was the home of a person who was firmly anchored in his life, who was settled in himself. 

He spotted the loose blue dressing gown draped over a chair, the robe Kingsley liked to slip into when he got out of bed, rarely bothering to tie it at the waist. He did always look magnificent in it. Remus wanted to see him wear it again.

Kingsley had taken his hoodie off and put some music on, a mellow number with deep, rumbling drums. Then he poured the drinks. He handed Remus a tumbler of iced whisky, before raising his own. 

‘Happy Birthday, Remus,’ he said again. ‘And bon voyage. Here’s to many adventures. May you return to us in one piece.’ They clinked glasses and drank. Having downed half his glass, Kingsley set down his drink and took off his shirt. 

Remus couldn’t help but stare at all that smooth, dark skin, the well defined chest. He barely had time to wonder once again what this gorgeous man wanted with a rundown, bony, and depressed half breed before Kingsley bent to kiss him full on the lips. Wrapping his arms around Remus’ lanky frame, he deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue into Remus’ mouth.

The first time they’d done this, months ago, it had been Remus who’d come on to Kingsley, insisting that yes, it was a good idea. He’d been out of it then, and Kingsley had worried he would be taking advantage. Remus had just wanted to be shagged into oblivion. They’d seen a lot of each other for a few weeks, and off and on after that.

Remus loved getting intimate with Kingsley’s towering physique, losing himself in that powerful embrace. Kingsley was already massaging Remus’ crotch. Reaching for his wand, he broke their kiss and murmured something. Surprised, Remus watched as his own clothes unbuckled and unbuttoned themselves and slid off him to the floor. Kingsley went back to kissing him, before moving lower to tease a pale nipple, nuzzling Remus’ abdomen, until finally, gloriously, his lips descended on Remus’ straining cock. 

Remus’ head swam as the hot wet mouth engulfed him, sucking on the tip before taking in all of him. He watched that regal head bobbing up and down, reducing him to soft moans of pleasure. Remus moved his hips, fucking into that mouth, as one of Kingsley’s large hands firmly kneaded his bum, and the other played with his balls. 

Then Kingsley released him with a pop, grinning up at him, and turned Remus around, spreading his cheeks. Remus gasped at the sensation of a flat tongue there, lapping, licking, swirling around his hole, and then dipping in. Sirius has been the last person who’d done this, Remus remembered with a start, feeling that familiar, sickening chasm gaping in his chest. Sirius tonguing him open, with all the enthusiasm of a dog devouring a treat. Sirius, pressed against the length of Remus’ back, clinging to him, with their fingers entwined, fucking him at a steady pace, whispering husky endearments into Remus’ ear.

Focus, Remus told himself, screwing his eyes shut. Kingsley’s tongue was delightfully probing his hole, his soft lips on Remus’ pucker. 

Eventually he retreated, lustily squeezing Remus’ bum cheeks, and got to his feet. Placing a number of kisses on Remus’ back, he stripped out of his own trousers and boxers. Then he sat down in an armchair, gently pulling Remus with him. Kingsley’s long, thick cock stood proud, glinting with precum in the soft light. Remus half turned and bent to stroke it, while Kingsley added a lubrication charm. Then Kingsley batted his hand away and placed the fat tip against Remus’ entrance. There was a burn as it breached him, but Remus continued to slowly lower himself backwards, until he was seated in Kingsley’s lap, and Kingsley’s cock was fully sheathed inside him. 

Both of them were breathing heavily now, and as Remus began to move, up and down, riding that magnificent cock, with Kingsley’s hand pumping Remus’ own leaking cock in time, soon enough they were both panting hard. 

Kingsley let go of him, grasping his thighs instead and holding him up as he fucked him rapidly. Pumping his own cock, Remus was delirious, enjoying the onslaught, the staccato of thrusts. He cried out as he came, splashing come all over the carpet. Kingsley was still slamming into him, gripping Remus’ flesh hard enough to bruise. Lifting him up and onto his knees on the floor, Kingsley kneeled behind him, re-entered him swiftly and fucked him hard and fast, pounding Remus’ oversensitive arse until he came deep inside him, with a long, choked moan. 

He pulled out slowly and sat back on his haunches. In a daze, Remus carefully sat down, smiling at Kingsley. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I think I needed that.’ He felt strangely at peace, more at ease than he had in a long time. 

‘I know what you want,’ Kingsley grinned. ‘Maybe even what you need.’ He got to his feet, and held out his hand to help Remus up. ‘Anyway, we’re not done yet. Let’s move this to the bedroom. If you’re going to disappear on us, we’d better give you a birthday to remember. A proper send off.’

 

** 4\. Borneo **

Hands, and lips. And that scent, distinct and unmistakable. The shape of that body, pressed against Remus’ back, moving suggestively. Those lips placing gentle, playful kisses all over his back, his shoulders, the nape of his neck. 

Remus gasped, arching back up into the other man’s body. Sirius’ beautiful body. Sirius’ skilful hand, snaking in between Remus’ hips and the mattress, feeling its way past Remus’ waistband and down to his crotch. Grasping, gripping, deliciously slicking Remus’ shaft with ample charmed lube.

Remus let out a soft moan and Sirius chuckled against his neck. Still wanking Remus’ cock in a slow, deliberate rhythm, he roughly pulled down Remus’ pyjama bottoms. Remus felt Sirius’ cock against his bum, the blunt head slippery. Dragging along the backs of his thighs, before pushing between them. Sirius let out a soft gasp as the firm shaft of his cock slid into the tight space.

Then Sirius’ hand slipped from Remus’ cock, and he braced himself above Remus, planting more kisses on Remus’ shoulder blades. He began to move his hips, the tip of his cock nudging Remus’ balls with every thrust.

Wait, Remus thought, we can’t, this was all wrong, he could never - but he was giving in, of course he was giving in, how could he stop himself? It was Sirius’ lips on his skin, Sirius’ cock between his thighs, Sirius’ hips grinding into him, pushing him into the mattress. 

He woke with a start, panting hard. 

Staring out into the darkness, he listened to the chirping and clicking of insects, the croaking of frogs and toads. The call of what might be a nightjar. Of course, he was half a world away. Remus made a face as he stripped off his wet boxers and tossed them towards the foot of his bed.

Picking up his wand, he reinforced the routine shield charms he used to repel poisonous insects and creatures, and to ward off local spirits. Perhaps there was a different Charm strong enough to protect him against this sort of spirit. 

Sinking back onto his pillow, Remus closed his eyes. It had seemed so very real. He felt ashamed, that this had happened again. The man he thought he hated. 

Apparently he couldn’t even manage that.

 

** 5\. School is out **

The doors opened, and people and luggage spilled out of the train onto the platform. An announcement came over the speaker that the delayed five fifteen had indeed arrived. Boiling in his Muggle suit, Remus waited another minute, before dispensing of his Concealment Charm and blending into the weary and excited crowd.

He’d Flooed down from Hogsmeade, Apparated from the Leaky Cauldron to Kings Cross, and then waited around on the platform for this particular train so he could pretend to have been on it. It was part of the charade, like the Muggle telephone calls that Remus had placed from Hogsmeade at regular intervals, speaking casually as though he’d just randomly decided to pick up the phone. The last one, only two days ago, had troubled him. Martin had sounded so thrilled that Remus would be back, and this soon. 

Remus sighed. Kings Cross station looked even grimier on a muggy day like this, and it reeked of fast food and smoke and sweat. 

There he was, waiting for Remus by the ticket barriers. Martin, the tall, handsome brute. His dark hair was cropped close, and he looked broader, more muscular, his arms straining the sleeves of his thin t-shirt. He’d mentioned that he’d taken up boxing again before Christmas. When last they’d seen each other, back in February, Remus hadn’t noticed any significant change, but he appreciated it now.

‘Remus!’ They hugged briefly. ‘Good to see you.’

‘You, too,’ Remus nodded, rolling his shoulders uncomfortably. ‘How have you been?’

‘Better now.’ Martin beamed at him, touching his arm. ‘Come on, let’s get you home.’ 

_Home._ They’d never actually lived together, or even been particularly serious, as far as Remus was concerned. But having given up his flat before leaving for Hogwarts last autumn, of course Remus no longer had a place to live. 

‘Shall I take that?’ He pointed at Remus’ leather case, ever the gentleman.

Laughing, Remus shook his head. ‘I’m all right, thank you.’ 

They weaved through the hordes of travellers crowding the station concourse. Once outside, Martin flagged down a cab. The sky hung low, the air was thick with fumes. Remus wished for a thunderstorm. 

Looking out at the dusty London streets from the back seat, he was still feeling queasy. 

Next to him somehow Martin managed to remain cool and fresh and unruffled in the stifling taxi. 

‘How’s life been then, at that fancy boarding school of yours?’ he asked.

‘Turbulent,’ Remus said vaguely. ‘You know, the usual.’ He didn’t know where to begin describing what had happened, how to translate it all into Muggle terms. And he really didn’t want to talk about it. Bad enough that he’d been thinking of little else.

In an attempt to deflect from himself, Remus asked Martin lots of questions instead. About the flat, the lab, Martin’s family. 

Martin was excited about a project he was working on, something involving radionuclides and siderophores. He’d lost a fight, and won two. Training was going well. His Ma and Da sent their best. The year before last, Martin and Remus had spent Christmas with them in Northern Ireland. Travelling the long, cumbersome Muggle way, because unless absolutely necessary, Remus didn’t Obliviate people he liked. 

‘Are you sure you’re ok?’ Martin asked him for a second time. ‘You seem, I dunno. Distracted.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Remus thought he sounded convincing. ‘I just need to properly arrive, you know, and relax.’

‘Sure,’ Martin said with a smile, and furtively squeezed Remus’ thigh. ‘We can do that.’

Remus glanced at him, thinking how fond he still was of this man, and that there was no doubt he still fancied him. 

He remembered Martin smiling at him in the crowd, just over two years ago, at a gig by a Muggle band called The Boners. Later, they’d got talking at the bar. The tall, brawny man turned out not to be an athlete, or a labourer, or even a policeman, but a microbiologist, working in research. Intrigued, Remus had asked him lots of questions, and had found himself charmed by Martin’s curiosity, by his black sense of humour, and his mellow Ulster brogue. 

On their way to Martin’s flat that night, Remus hadn’t let on how much he enjoyed the novelty of using a Muggle night bus again, or the ingenious mechanics of a pocket sized portable stereo system, or even the man’s interesting Muggle aftershave. 

He knew that starting anything with a strapping young Muggle scientist might mean playing fast and loose with the Statute of Secrecy further down the line. But he never did get involved with people, did he? It wouldn’t be an issue.

As it turned out, they had kept on seeing each other. And apart from always having to hide his wand, which made him uneasy, Remus hadn’t minded living as a Muggle for all those months, disappearing into a different world. In a way it had reminded him of his own parents, his ever patient dad, humouring his Muggle wife and her family. Perhaps this was meant to be, perhaps Remus would find happiness with an unsuspecting Muggle. Only it didn’t seem very likely now.

Of course he wouldn’t be able to keep his magical powers hidden indefinitely. His cover story - that he worked as a supply teacher, a random line that had at least explained his irregular hours - had started wearing thin, when Albus had asked him to actually teach at Hogwarts. As for all the conferences or visits to ailing relatives around every full moon… No matter how used he was to lying, Remus disliked having to do it. He just hadn’t been ready to have that conversation. He still wasn’t ready now. And now he wasn’t all that sure he even wanted to slip back into a Muggle existence.

As the cab pulled into Martin’s street, Remus realised with a start that he had nothing but Knuts and Galleons in his wallet. In the end Martin handed the driver a tenner.

Looking up at the old familiar windows, Remus’ heart sank. Nothing felt quite right. He wasn’t the same. 

There had been no question that revisiting Hogwarts was going to be hard. Wandering around the school as a teacher had been bizarre, and he would’ve convinced himself that he was a fraud, had his students not been so encouraging. Memories had ambushed him at every turn. And the spectre of Sirius in every corridor, the spectre of Sirius in all the papers.

Until the events of a few days ago, of that single night, had changed everything. Even his past had been rearranged.

Upstairs in the kitchen, Martin handed him an ice cold beer from the fridge. They clinked bottles. Remus drank deeply. He hadn’t realised he was so parched.

‘Take your jacket off, why don’t you.’ Martin suggested, approaching with a grin.

He took another step towards Remus and kissed him, a searing hot sort of a kiss, sensuous, demanding.

As they kissed deeply, Martin stripped Remus of his suit jacket, pulled off his braces, unbuttoned his shirt. Meanwhile, Remus was running his hands over his toned arms, and under his t-shirt, marvelling at the feel of his muscular back.

Fondling the front of Remus’ trousers, Martin undid his belt buckle, fumbling for the button and the zip. After another breathless kiss, he dropped to his knees, pulling Remus’ trousers down, but leaving his boxers on. Looking up at Remus, he mouthed at the distinct bulge through the fabric, slowly following the contours of Remus’ cock. Remus thoroughly enjoyed the view, savouring Martin’s hot breath on him, the way Martin nuzzled and nipped and sucked and all but worshipped him. 

Eventually, Martin pulled down the boxers, groping Remus’ cock as it sprang free, sucking on Remus’ balls before taking the tip of his shaft into his mouth.

Remus exhaled slowly, shakily, and closed his eyes. Martin was so very good at this. Running his hand through Martin’s shorn, velvety hair, he moved his hips a little, shoving his cock further down his throat. They’d last seen each other a couple of months ago in a hotel room in Birmingham. Remus might as well have been a different person then. 

He was trying not to think of that face. Haggard, and hollow-cheeked, with wild, shining eyes. But the scent had been the same. Beneath the dirt and the grime, Remus could smell Sirius. Unmistakeable. Strong, and musky. When he’d hugged him, briefly, both of them shaken, they had fitted together as they always had. 

“Oh,” he choked out and hastily pulled back. Too close. He wasn’t ready to come yet. Martin was getting to his feet, and after another passionate kiss Remus turned him around, making short work of his trousers, bending him over the kitchen table. He ran his fingers down the cleft of Martin’s arse, and caressed his hole, before probing it gently, pushing a well lubricated finger in. 

Martin startled and turned to look at him. ‘Smooth,’ he said, grinning. ‘How d'you do that?’

‘I, er…’ Rattled, Remus just shrugged. It had become such a habit again – on his own at Hogwarts, and with casual encounters in Hogsmeade – that he’d forgotten he mustn’t use Charms in the bedroom.

‘Screw a stage magician up in Scotland, did you?’ Martin chuckled at the idea.

‘If only,’ Remus said lightly, still fingering Martin. He might as well use some more magic, he thought. Why not spice things up a little? He didn’t need a wand or anything, not for simple old spells. Reaching around, he applied a little Charm that set Martin’s balls tingling, before giving his cock a few firm strokes.

‘Go on,’ Martin gasped. ‘Stop messing about, and fuck me.’

‘Right.’ So Remus did as he was told. He slapped that delectable bum, lined himself up, and pushed in. Starting slowly, he soon picked up the pace until he was fucking Martin hard, making him pant and curse and moan, making the table creak. 

He’d barely whispered the Pleasure Enhancement Charm when Martin cried out and shot his load across the kitchen table. Watching the muscular back ripple, Remus kept going, slamming into him in a furious rhythm.

He closed his eyes, and saw himself, a few days ago. As a wolf, tussling with the large, black dog. It wasn’t a clear memory, more of a feeling. The dog had stood up to him. The wolf knew the dog, and had missed him so much it hurt. The dog was back.

Remus came suddenly, with an audible gasp. Drenched in sweat, still breathing hard, he kissed Martin’s strong shoulders, his neck, before gingerly pulling out. Martin turned and leaned in for another sensuous kiss. Remus reached for his cool beer. As he drank, he felt Martin’s eyes on him. He was smiling, and giving him a dazed, curious look. Remus realised he couldn’t stay here. It wasn’t right, it would never work. He didn’t want to pretend anymore. Not when there was the slightest chance of another life, in which he’d no longer have to.

 

** 6\. Sirius **

The creaking bedroom door startled Remus awake. ‘Here you are!’ said a voice. Sirius. ‘Been looking all over for you.’

Blinking in the light, Remus ran his hand across his face. ‘Downside of such a big house,’ he mumbled vaguely. 

Sirius chuckled. ‘Should’ve known you’d be in here.’ The mattress dipped slightly as he climbed into his side of the bed.

‘I've just... a quick nap…’ Remus yawned, stretching his limbs. It had been almost a year since the war, but sometimes he still got overwhelmed by exhaustion. ‘What time is it?’

‘Afternoon.’ Sirius edged closer, wrapping an arm around Remus over the duvet, nuzzling his neck. His face felt cold, he must’ve only just got in.

‘Good meeting? How was Kingsley?’

‘Our minister, you mean? Very grand, as is only fitting. Ridiculous office. Arthur couldn’t stop going on about it, and how glad he was to finally see someone decent behind that massive desk. Kingsley’s very happy, I think. And he’s got a very dashing young aide, keen to fulfil his every whim, you should see him…’ Remus felt Sirius smiling against his skin. ‘Not that I’d be tempted, obviously. Got enough on my plate.’ Sliding his hand under the covers, he let out a lusty ‘Ah!’ when his fingers touched Remus’ bare chest.

‘I should get up,’ Remus mumbled half-heartedly.

‘Oh no!’ Sirius kissed his throat. ‘That’s the last thing you should do. Nothing pressing, is there? Except for this, perhaps…’ He bucked his hips gently.

Remus chuckled, turning towards him. Sirius trailed his hand lower, caressing Remus’ abdomen, and lower still, making an appreciative sound when he encountered no fabric at all. He grasped Remus’ cock and began to stroke it.

Remus sighed, then gasped. ‘Take your clothes off,’ he said briskly, ‘and get in here.’ 

Sirius beamed at him, kissing him again, before sitting up and divesting himself of his casual Wizarding garb. Remus enjoyed watching him, watching the lean muscles move beneath his skin, the inked silhouette of a stag running on his arm, the intricately drawn Hebridean Black slowly slithering around Sirius’ back. As much as the many drawings, marks and sigils covering Sirius’ torso weren’t exactly happy reminders, the tattoos did suit him. 

Once naked, Sirius climbed under the covers. Then he was upon Remus, their bodies sliding together, their cocks jumping when they touched. 

Remus couldn’t help laughing. Sirius’ warm skin under his hands, his cock pressing up against him insistently. Wrapping his arms around Sirius’ waist, groping his bum, Remus rolled them over so he was on top. Kissing him deeply, he tugged on Sirius’ achingly hard shaft a bit, before getting onto his knees between Sirius’ legs and bending down to taste it. He loved that cock in his mouth, savoured the salty flavour. 

Sirius threw his head back, eagerly shoving his prick further down Remus’ throat. He sighed with pleasure when Remus tongued and sucked on his balls. Spreading his legs wider in invitation, Sirius lifted his bum and audibly cast a lubrication charm.

Remus entered him with a long, steady thrust, pushing in to the hilt. He couldn’t stop moving, Sirius felt too good. Taking all of Remus, and Remus taking all of him. Sirius pulled him into another kiss, and Remus thrust his tongue into his mouth, all the while fucking him deeply.

Sirius was breathless, moaning and panting. Keeping up a fierce pace, Remus pushed at Sirius’ thighs to lift them higher, watching his slick cock pistoning in and out of Sirius’ tight, gorgeous arse. 

‘Yes,’ Sirius gasped, his own cock continuously leaking onto his stomach, ‘more,’ and ‘harder.’ And Remus obliged, losing himself in the relentless rhythm, the overwhelming pleasure. He couldn’t get enough of Sirius. Still moaning and cursing, Sirius reached for his own cock and pulled himself off, once, twice, before coming spectacularly, shooting big spurts all over his own chest. That was all it took. Remus’ mind went blank, he managed a couple of erratic thrusts before he came, shouting as his orgasm ripped through him, pumping his release deep inside Sirius.

They came apart, moving heavily, until they lay side by side. Still catching his breath, Remus wiped his sweaty brow. Sirius threw an arm around him, grinning contentedly. ‘What?’ he asked, when Remus kept staring at him thoughtfully.

Remus blinked. ‘I was just thinking.’ He yawned. ‘Are we going to get bored? Just - living together? Without a war… Death Eaters... mortal danger…?’

‘Probably.’ Sirius nodded sagely. ‘We’ll absolutely hate it.’ Unable to keep a straight face, he leaned in and kissed Remus’ lips. Remus cupped his beautiful face, and snogged him properly. 

‘I dunno,’ Sirius said when they came up for air, his voice husky. ‘Living with you, like this - in our own place, in peacetime - is the most exciting thing I can think of.’ 

‘Yeah…’ Remus considered this. ‘I suppose - we can finally let go.’ 

‘Exactly,’ Sirius said sleepily. His fingers, finding Remus’ hand, grasped it firmly.


End file.
